"Dost thou see them, boy?-through the dusky pines Dost thou see where the foeman's armour shines? Hast thou caught the gleam of the conqueror's crest? My babe, that I cradled on my breast! Wouldst thou spring from thy mother's arms with joy? -That sight hath cost thee a father, boy!" 66 For in the rocky strait beneath, Lay Suliote sire and son: They had heap'd high the piles of death. Before the pass was won. They have cross'd the torrent, and on they come: Woe for the mountain hearth and home! There, where the hunter laid by his spear, There, where the lyre hath been sweet to hear, There, where I sang thee, fair babe! to sleep, Nought but the blood-stain our trace shall keep!" And now the horn's loud blast was heard, And now the cymbal's clang, Till even the upper air was stirr'd, "Hark! they bring music, my joyous child! As if at a glance of thine armèd sire ? Still-be thou still!-there are brave men low: Thou wouldst not smile couldst thou see him now!" But nearer came the clash of steel, And farther yet the tambour's peal Through the dark pass was borne. "Hear'st thou the sound of their savage mirth? And from the arrowy peak she sprung, THE FAREWELL TO THE DEAD. [The following piece is founded on a beautiful part of the Greek funeral service, in which relatives and friends are invited to embrace the deceased (whose face is uncovered) and to bid their final adieu.-See Christian Researches in the Mediterranean.] ""Tis hard to lay into the earth A countenance so benign! a form that walk'd COME near! Ere yet the dust WILSON. Soil the bright paleness of the settled brow, Come near !—once more let kindred lips be press'd Look yet on this young face! What shall the beauty, from amongst us gone, Dim grows the semblance on man's heart impress'd. Ye weep, and it is well! For tears befit earth's partings! Yesterday, Where'er he moved-the welcome and the bless'd. Look yet on him whose eye Meets yours no more, in sadness or in mirth. But not where death has power may love be bless'd. How may the mother's heart Dwell on her son, and dare to hope again? Is he not gone, our brightest and our best? Look on him! Is he laid To slumber from the harvest or the chase ? Too still and sad the smile upon his face; Yet that, even that must fade: Death holds not long unchanged his fairest guest. Come near and bear the mortal to his rest! His voice of mirth hath ceased Amidst the vineyards! there is left no place Earth must take earth to moulder on her breast. Come near! weep o'er him! bear him to his rest. Yet mourn ye not as they Whose spirit's light is quench'd! For him the past All is not here of our beloved and bless'd. ye the sleeper with his God to rest! MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP.* WHAT hidest thou in thy treasure caves and cells, Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main ?— Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-colour'd shells Bright things which gleam unreck'd of, and in vain. Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea! We ask not such from thee. Yet more, the depths have more! What wealth untold, Far down, and shining through their stillness lies! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies. Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main! Earth claims not these again. Yet more, the depths have more! Thy waves have roll'd Above the cities of a world gone by! Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old, Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry.— * Originally introduced in the " Forest Sanctuary." |